


Making Amends

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [119]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Apologies, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Avenger Reader (Marvel), Avengers Tower, F/M, Fights, Idiots in Love, Loki (Marvel) Feels, M/M, Reader-Insert, Stark Tower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25457161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: When Loki lashes out at you, he puts everything he has in danger. Can he fix it before you leave him forever?
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [119]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 11
Kudos: 227





	Making Amends

As a general rule, Loki was not in the habit of apologizing. Especially not to mortals. They were scarcely flickering sparks compared to his lifespan—what did it truly matter if he angered one of them? He was not responsible for the feelings of others. He could only do what he could, and if that made someone angry, then surely that was their problem. He’d been here in Midgard for quite some time now, and he’d had very few problems with this outcome, so he had even fewer reasons to change.

But then he hurt you.

You were a mortal, of course, but you were not like the others. When you spent time with him, it appeared to be because you wanted to. You were smart, and conversations with you were never dull. You made him laugh quite a lot with your dry wit. The first time it happened, he’d actually stopped in the middle of his laughter, feeling strange about it. Was anyone else looking at him? Were _you_ looking at him? But now it was normal. The two of you spent a lot of time together when you were both home in the Tower, and he even caught himself looking forward to seeing you again when one of you had been gone for a long time on assignment. You’d done things to him. If you were a different sort of person, he might worry that you’d cast a spell on him. 

But he was rather uncomfortably aware that your ability to bewitch him was entirely natural.

He trekked through the Tower, carrying his things with him. He could have—should have—taken an elevator directly to his floor, but maybe he was hoping to see you for a moment or two. He followed the sound of conversation to one of the sitting rooms, and heard Stark mention his name in a low voice. That was followed by quiet laughter from a collection of others: not uproarious or anything, but...appreciative. 

And then he heard your voice. You did not sound amused. If anything, you sounded irritated. “He’s part of the team, Tony. I don’t appreciate when you guys make jokes like that.”

He could only barely make out Tony’s response, but his voice sounded less than apologetic. He was arguing with you over whatever he’d said before.

“No. You know that’s bullshit. How many times has he saved each of us already? You don’t say stuff like that about Thor, so don’t tell me it’s just a joke. Everyone else on this team has done things they shouldn’t have, so why is _he_ the only one that any of you feel okay joking about?”

The room was quiet for a moment. Loki shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He made it seem that the jokes didn’t bother him, but somehow you knew how they weighed on him anyway. He wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that. Maybe he’d let you get too close. Maybe he’d told you too much. Some combination of the long flight, his irritation with Thor and Banner, and his own discomfort made him step through the doorway. All eyes swiveled to land on him. You looked happy to see him for a moment, but he forced himself to ignore that. He didn’t deserve to make you happy. He shook his head at you and spoke before he could think about it:

“I do not concern myself with the thoughts of mortals. And I certainly don’t need someone like _you_ to stand up for me.” His voice was cold—far colder than it should _ever_ be when talking to you. As soon as he’d finished speaking the words out loud, he wished he could take them back. If only he could reach out and pluck them directly out of the air before they reached your ears.

“Oh—” You looked like you’d been slapped: eyes bright and watery, mouth a perfect O. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” He saw the way you lowered your eyes to your hands in lieu of casting a hopeless look around the room. Even now, even in this, you did not want the others to attack him. Everything in him was screaming at him to take it back, or at least to call you out of the room so he could explain himself in private, but he was too tired and too damaged for that. “I’m sorry, Loki.”

His tongue was too large for his mouth. He could feel the way the others were looking at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet anyone’s eyes. What had he done just now except confirm whatever it was that Stark had been saying about him? He said nothing, only turned on the ball of his foot and took himself to his quarters, where he should have gone in the first place.

In the morning, after a shower and a lot of rest, he was feeling a lot more like himself. In fact, it was hard to remember exactly why he felt that cold knot in his belly until he went down for breakfast. You were the only other person in the kitchen, but rather than greeting him happily, or at least warmly, as you usually did, you stiffened a bit and fixed your eyes on the mug in front of you. Right. He’d fucked up last night. He said your name as gently as he could, but you didn’t look up, only mumbled his name back at him.

This was wrong. He did not realize just how much he’d come to appreciate the easy, open way you held yourself when you were alone together until just now. You were tense. It wasn’t hard to tell that you were aching to leave, but you felt bad about doing it so blatantly. But even now, he could tell the difference between you and the way the others treated him. Even now, after he’d spoken to you so cruelly, you did not want to avoid him out of fear. This felt more like...embarrassment. He cursed his own stupid behavior in his mind even as he waited for the kettle to boil.

The silence was heavy. It was loaded. If this were a normal morning, you would already be talking. Maybe you’d ask him about the mission, or, more likely, you’d ask him about the flight home. He’d crack a joke about his brother and Banner being madly in love and you’d laugh, but then clasp your hand over your mouth to try to hide that laugh. He’d taken the same private pleasure that he always took in your guilty look of glee, and then probably sit down beside you. When the kettle finished, Loki went through the familiar routine of preparing his tea. But it held no comfort for him today, no peace. All he could think about was you, sitting there behind him and believing that he truly meant what he’d said last night.

So, for the first time in his long, long life, Loki decided to apologize. He stirred his tea a few times while he worked up the nerve to turn around, and then put the spoon in the sink. Just as he was about to turn to look at you, he heard you stand up and push your chair in. He nearly lost his nerve. He nearly let you go. But he straightened his spine and did what he had to do.

“Wait,” he said. His voice came out too sharp. Too demanding. Inwardly, he cringed. You were not someone he could just order around. “ _Please_ wait. Will you?” He ventured a glance at you, and his chest tightened. Your eyes were wide again. You never looked at him with anything like fear in your eyes, but today there was...a hesitance. It was almost enough to make him crumble and tell you that you could go. You bit your lip, and something about that made him long to reach for you. But you nodded. Relieved, he moved to the table and sat next to where you’d been sitting. He wanted to invite you to join him, but found that he didn’t dare. If you refused, what would that mean for the two of you?

He wrapped his hands around his mug and stared into the surface so he wouldn’t have to look at you. “I didn’t mean what I said to you last night.” A thousand explanations sprang to the tip of his tongue, but he held back. Excuses would not fix this. 

“No, it’s fine! I get it. You were right!” You precious creature, trying to shield him from your pain. The pain _he’d_ caused. “I’m sorry—I was just...worried about you last night, and then Tony started in and I...”

He cut in before you could continue to trivialize what he’d done. “Thank you for your faith in me, but I was _not_ right. I was cruel. I should have been thanking you for standing on my behalf.” He fell silent for a moment, and braced himself for you to continue telling him that he was right to do it. But all you did was pull out your chair again and sit. He looked up at you again, just long enough to send you a tense, but grateful, smile, and then looked away again. “Thank you. It has been a long time since anyone’s done what you did.”

“I had to do it. You’re part of the team, and it’s not _right_ that they treat you the way they do.” Bless you, you still sounded so angry—but not at him. At them. He was struck—and not for the first time—by the urge to pull you close and kiss you. Maybe that was another reason he’d snapped at you last night. If he didn’t fuck things up like this every once in a while, there’d be nothing to stop him from something like that. But surely he did not have the courage to tell you that right now. You drew in a quiet breath. “I...I like you, Loki. A lot. I don’t want them to drive you away.”

He laughed, mostly to himself. “You don’t need to worry about that, darling. They couldn’t do that. I couldn’t leave you.” That seemed to come alarmingly close to a full confession, but if he knew anything about you, it was that you wouldn’t catch the most obvious meaning in his words. You weren’t dull, but you also weren’t particularly good at picking up on things like that. “I know that my words last night were uncalled for and I am truly sorry that I hurt you. I know better than that. You are far too important to me for it to be acceptable to treat you like that. If you will promise to try to forgive me, I will promise to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

And he would. Whatever it took to make the sadness fade out of your face, he was willing to do it. By the norns, there were many other things that he wanted to spend his life doing for you—doing _with_ you—but he held that back, for now.

You traced the rim of your empty mug with one delicate finger. Perhaps it was silly for someone like him to be nervous about what you’d say next, but you mattered too much for him _not_ to be nervous. After several long moments, you drew in another breath and leaned forward a bit to take his hand in yours. His heart stopped. You’d touched each other by accident, here and there, but generally you gave him plenty of space. His fingers twined through yours as though they had a mind of their own, and then you squeezed his hand. “I’ve already forgiven you, Loki. But thank you for apologizing. I know you don’t...really do that. It means a lot to me.”

Something in your touch, and in your eyes, gave him the courage to lift your hand to his lips. Your hand was softer than any Avenger’s hand had any right to be. He drew in a deep breath of the smell of your skin and squeezed your hand a little tighter. “You are worth it.” 

Realization—and then shyness—began to dawn in your eyes. He smiled.


End file.
